Philia
by Lluvia Di'Noche
Summary: The war sent humanity crumbling. It began in shocks, the first, electricity shut down, the second, disease spread, third, earthquakes that could shake the heavens, and last, the world began to freeze. Humans will finally be shown as what they are; selfish killers.
1. ένας

**_ένας~_**

* * *

 **ένας-one**

 **A/n: I came up with the idea at two am when I decided to start over with my writing.**

 _ **TRIGGER WARNING: Murder, gore, references to rape, suicide references, language, death, and illness**_

* * *

 _ **Philia (/ˈfɪljə/ or /ˈfɪliə/; Ancient Greek: φιλία), often translated "brotherly love", is one of the four ancient Greek words for love. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**_

 _ **The war sent humanity crumbling. It began in shocks, the first, electricity shut down, the second, disease spread, third, earthquakes that could shake the heavens, and last, the world began to freeze. Humans will finally be shown as what they are; selfish killers. The Hamato brothers were separated after the third shock, Michelangelo in Seborga, Italy, Raphael in Salvador, Brazil, Donatello in Omsk, Russia, and Leonardo alone in New York, The United States. Separation means challenges and leaves each to survive and attempt to reach the others. But with humanity lost and murder a common task, reaching the other's in one piece is the true task at hand.**_

* * *

Some called it The End Of Days, others called it World Depression, some even labeled it the War On Man, whatever it went by, it was chaotic. It wasn't something to be taken lightly, and it wasn't something to laugh at. Lack of preparation meant death, but to others, death as good. It gave them the opportunity to grab supplies and strip the corpse of anything worth taking (which was usually everything). Not many children survived the first two shocks, after the earthquakes, it had been spread that of the previous population of youth ages fourteen and under, twelve survived total. Of the elderly, fifty-two and above, twenty-two survived. It was those who were old enough to learn how to survive quickly that made it. If you were small, you were lucky to be kept, if you were old, you were tossed aside, if you were sick, you were burned, if you were slow, you were left for wolves, there wasn't much reliability.

At least, not anymore. After The War Of Fire, the world fell into oblivion. The war was silly to think about at first, little Latvia finally started a major war, and a war on Lithuania surprisingly. Nobody knew why it started, some said it was out of cheekiness, others said that it was debt never paid, whatever the reason be, it sparked madness. It did not take a week before Russia and the United States joined, shortly followed by Japan, Italy, Belarus, Sealand (amazingly), The United Kingdom, Portugal, Spain, and Germany. After that, it was history, of course it would be.

The day humanity lost it's well, humanity. Countries were attacking each other, it even started a worldwide drought. There was no water for months on end simply because the countries did not cease the war. They were much too inthralled in the temptations of putting their own petty lives before anybody else. People were more willing to abandon family and kill their friends than get a scratch on their lip.

To Leonardo, he called it χαμένος(chaménos ), which meant 'lost'. The eldest of the brother's remembered it so clearly, how he had told his brother's and father that it would all be okay. How he insisted it would be over after the electricity. It was a horror show, the people turned it into a massacre within the first week.

It was a simple day and a nice one at that. The people had not been expected it at all. Everything was supposed to be fine, why hadn't it turned out fine. Sure, the day was a little more warm than usual, but it was nothing to worry about.

Leonardo had been in charge of ordering the pizza for dinner, wary of Michelangelo being asleep so that he would be able to get a somewhat normal pizza for once. Raphael was training with Donatello in case of an appearance from The Foot Clan or another Kraang attack. Michelangelo was napping after a long night of video games and comic books, and Master Splinter was doing whatever Master Splinter did.

April was in Jersey for the week and Casey was to visit the lair after hockey practice. It was a normal day for everyone. The blue-clad ninja was looking around for his phone so that he would have a chance to order the pizza before Mikey woke up. With no luck, he sighed and fell to the ground with a small _thud_

He winced slightly and lifted his bum up only to find that the device had been in front of him. Feeling foolish, he lifted it up and dialed the pizza place. It was at that moment that there was a high ringing and then a _crack_ followed by a _snap_ and soon the lights burst leaving them in darkness.

"What the shell? Can anybody explain why the lights are off?"

It didn't take a rocket scientist to know who that snappy voice belonged to.

"Don't get your shell in a twist, it's just an outage. We've got flashlights,"Leonardo called out only to recieve some crude remarks from Raphael and a girly scream from Donatello who had been working on something. Michelangelo was most likely still asleep and their dear sensei was slowly making his way along.

It wasn't until that moment that Leonardo noticed that his phone rang dead. Looking down he raised his mask corners lightly as the dim screen was littered with the black and white dots you see on your television sometimes.

"Hey Raph, is your phone working?"

"Of course it is dimw-" the red clad turtle paused as he looked at the shell-shaped object, "Nope, I ain't got signal."

"Don?"

"Nope."

The three brothers glanced at each other in the little bit of light they had. Quickly, Leonardo turned his off, "Turn them off, we don't know what's going on or how long this outage will last, but it's better to save the power for when we have a chance to call."

All nodded and followed as their older brother.

"Wait...Leo do you hear that?"

"Don, I think you're hearing things, there's nothing."

Leonardo tilted his head and indeed he heard something, it sounded almost like screams and glass breaking. He looked over at his brothers and teacher to find them with the same looks that he had.

"Do you think it's Shredder, he has been gone a while," Raph folded his arms now genuinely concerned.

"I don't think even the Tin Man could have turned lights and signal off. Donnie, wake up Mikey, I think it's time for a last minute check-up on the city."

The orange banded turtle was not too happy about being awoken, he also threw a fit for a few minutes because he was convinced he had gone blind. It was something that simply didn't let them laugh about it this time or yell. Each member of the group was in anxiety of what they would find when they went up top.

As soon as Michelangelo realized how serious this was, he stood up and they all hastily made their way to the surface.

There were things they expected to see, and things they wanted to see. They expected chaos, but they wanted it to be at the fault of The Foot Clan. Then there was what they didn't expect.

None of the expected a bloodbath.

That's what it was the minute they went up there. There was not a single streetlight on, the closest to light was the fires that were started. Leonardo was the first to walk out and see it, it had been only a few hours and this is what happened. He winced as he lifted his foot up to find he had stepped on some glass that was scattered all over the ground. He looked around and saw people fighting, stealing things, and crying.

Donatello walke out next, seeing what had happened in a short few hours caused his stomach to turn. There was a horrible stench of something burning. It was a smell that send his stomach curdling and that's when they saw it.

"Leo..."

The blue-clad turtle turned to find a man on thee ground, his pale hair was stained with his own blood and it seemed his organs were torn out, ripped to pieces and left on the side-walk. Next to him was a figure burning, they did not know if it was a woman or a man, but they dared not try and find out.

"What happened...it hasn't been that long. When was the last time we went on patrol?"

"Last week, Raph, you don't think that-"

The red clad-turtle knew well what his brother was saying, and for once not wanting to upset Donnie, he shot him a glare and the elder nodded silently. However, that didn't mean that Donatello didn't get the message; he was well aware of what they spoke of and his heart clenched at the thought of it.

"We can't let Mikey see this, let's-"

"Yo dudes, what's going on up-" the youngest stopped. His blue eyes that glittered with curiosity filled with horror and his face went pale as he looked around.

The other three of the brothers looked at him and watched as he looked away and clenched his jaw, "W-What's going on?"

Leonardo could only look around at the little they were seeing and then turn back to his little brother who's face was filled with horror.

"This is the end lil bro," Raphael said as the sounds of screams and shattering pierced the air and the stench of murder dripped from the walls. Michelangelo shook his head and leaped back into the sewers, the images of what he had seen, scarring him deeply.

That wasn't the worst of what they saw, there was a woman who was stripped naked and left hanging by her arm on a fire escape. She had been robbed of everything, the only thing that she truly had was the gold hoop earrings that swayed gently with her hanging body. They had thought she was dead until her voice weakly murmured.

"Please...help..."

They had left her, it had been Donatello's final decision, she was already guaranteed death. She had bruises on her arms, neck, and legs from being held down for robbery, one of her eyes was completely burned out along with a large part of her face. All that was left was a scarlet, charred face that had puss oozing from the large gash on it. Her arms were out of their sockets from being hung so long, and flies were already gathering around her.

Day after day, three of the four brothers went out to try and help people, but they didn't want help. Humanity was too twisted and tangled in their vile desires, they forgot t be human. This wasn't humanity, this was wolves. Picking at the carcasses of anything that lay nearby.

After the fifth day, the second shock came. People caught this disease caused from the ashes of their fires, and a virus that had leaked. They called it Fotiá, it meant fire, which is exactly what the tormentful hell of sickness was. It left people crippled, blind, burning internally, and drove them insane. Those who were lucky only fell into a coma, but their chances of being murdered in their sleep remained high. Michelangelo was one of those who caught the sickness. Donatello never left his little brother's side. Concern on not knowing what to do. There was no electricity, there was no signal, there was no help.

Raphael and Leonardo got into an argument that still rang clearly in the blue clad turtle's mind. Raph blamed him, he blamed him for Mikey being sick and telling him that their little brother should have never seen what he saw that day. Leo argued that he didn't want him to see. None of them did. The argument went on for hours before Raphael left, telling Leo he'd rather die in the world of sinners than in the house of the Devil.

Donatello left also, not purposely, he simply wanted to see if he could get some supplies, that was after the decline in children, he never returned. When Michelangelo awoke, he cried into Leonardo and Splinter's shoulders. The end of humanity meant the end of their family. What was worse is that Michelangelo was still sick and Leonardo was unsure with what, he prayed it wasn't Fotiá, he couldn't stand the thought of losing his youngest brother. This wasn't the last of the torment, it wasn't even the beginning.

Almost all of the population of children died within the next week. The only reason anybody knew about the twelve survivors was if they were lucky enough to have a portable radio. For some reason, they still worked. Along with the children, came the elderly. All that was left was the vain and idiotic who were more obsessed with living another day on the now fallen world than saving their family.

Then again, this is the human race, a group of selfish thieves who only look after themselves.

When the third shock came, that's when the true selfish murderers and survivors were left. That was also when the last of the brothers were separated. Leonardo was left in New York, making sure he didn't lose Splinter too. He vowed to bring his brother's back, even if it meant he'd possibly die.

The end had finally arrived, and this time it wasn't a storybook.


	2. δύο

_**δύο**_

* * *

The turtle shivered as he attempted to heat up some water so that he, his brother, and father could eat. Three weeks, it had been three weeks since he last saw Donatello. Michelangelo was still terribly ill and could hardly walk anywhere without having hallucinations or falling from exhaustion. Desperately Leonardo fought to keep his brother alive, however things seemed to get harder and harder. The earthquakes had ended a week before so he no longer feared that, but he did fear that his little brother would soon perish.

The blue-clad turtle grabbed his radio and turned it on to listen briefly. It was the same thing as usual, the murder counts went up, countries fallen into peril, and the world turned upside down.

"Do not lose faith my son," a comforting voice loomed over causing the eldest of them to relax.

Looking up at his father he sighed, Splinter had caught the sickness and was left blind. The rat pulled out a cloth and coughed into, all of them too afraid to look at the cloth knowing what they would find.

"Have you had your tea, sensei?"

"Leonardo, do not avoid the subject."

Again, he repeated, "Have you had your tea sensei?"

"No."

Leo looked up at his master with eye that were glossed with tears, "Why not? You know it helps you. I know it's disgusting but-"

"We have no more tea."

His lips made an 'o' shape as he nodded slightly and poured some water into three bowls, putting a bit of chicken broth in each so they ate something. He didn't want to admit it, but ever since Donatello left, everyday he lived in terror. There was the agonizing terror that he'd lose Master Splinter, and the horrible nightmares that Michelangelo would never heal. They haunted him day and night causing him anxiety that tormented him day after day.

Standing up, he grabbed his now rusty katanas, a nearly empty canteen, a bag, and some rope. It was Tuesday.

This was most likely the only thing he was truly sure of, the days of the week. The blue-clad turtle kept a small pocket notebook with him at all times and he would make sure to write the day each morning he awoke. It was the only thing he was sure that was right in the world: the day of the week. Master Splinter watched as his burdened son said no words, placed a soft kiss on Michelangelo's forehead, and made his way out of the sewers.

After all, it was Tuesday, the only day he ever left the sanctuary of their broken down lair that was littered with broken machines and empty containers emphasizing their lack of food. It was the one day a week where he was forced to accept that perhaps humanity was truly inherently corrupt.

Walking out he was greeted with the same, non-surprising things he encountered many times before. There were two women stabbing each other's eyes out with lead pencils, a man who was convinced the broken glass was water and foolishly put it in his mouth only to be welcomed by the harsh reality, there was a man stabbing another man for a can of pineapple, and there were the bodies. When the end of days arrives, people seem to stop caring about corpses on the streets. They simply shove them into an empty building if they are in the way or light them on fire just to be entertained in a twisted way.

He had tried, he truly had. The first week of the chaos, Leonardo had desperately attempted to save the people of New York, but they didn't want to be saved. The World Depression was a way of binging on the actions that were considered inhumane and illegal a few months before. Man slaughtered man, family turned on family, and friends were butchered for a quick buck or two.

Eventually, Leonardo gave up and simply made his way along to The Market, a secret place for mutants to trade and buy goods. Although these 'goods' often turned out to be a half-eaten, now moldy salami, and some dirty pond water. Still, it was better than joining the purge that was what the humans participated in to get what they needed.

It was amusing, it was truly amusing how they had faith in people to do the right things. People are selfish killers and would rather gouge a little girl's eyes out than end up six feet below. He'd seen it done before and he still saw it happen, although there were no children to kill, most of them died out during the second shock.

He arrived at his destination and looked around at the gloomy area. The feuds between gangs and mutants had stopped. Now it was simply every man for themselves. He walked forward and was immediately recognized by Leatherhead who gave him a nod. He walked over to the great reptile's area, his head high showing no pain, and his hands lazily hanging almost as if nothing were wrong.

"I need three rations," his voice was filled with monotone. Nodding, the large beast slapped three bags on the table, "what are you giving me?"

Leonardo sighed and lifted up a bag and dropped its contents. The objects inside were rusted and had almost no good use. There were a couple of bolts, some broken jewelry, and a small knife.

Leatherhead shook his head as he looked at Leo, "This is only worth two rations."

At this, the blue-clad mutant nearly lost his temper. It was hard to keep calm during this time, especially when the world had broken apart and love was rare to find in the eyes of those who wanted nothing more than to survive and become the strongest. Almost as if this were some silly novel that would become famous for the character that was stronger than the rest. This was reality, and reality hurt, "Yesterday this got me three rations!"

"Yesterday there were more supplies. I'm sorry Leonardo, I cannot give you three rations today."

He felt everything start to crumble, he needed the three rations, he needed them all. Mikey was sick, Splinter was weak and he had not eaten in four days. His stomach growled, begging and pleading for some sort of nutrition and Leo knew that should he skip another meal, he may possibly leave himself ill. Looking at the two rations being offered, he sighed, "I'll take them."

Taking the two packages, he walked off, displeased in the thought of being hungry, but happy that this was one meal closer to his little brother being healed from the burden of Fotiá. There was a terrible, terrible odor, one that he had sadly become accustomed to. It was the smell of burning flesh and corpses being eaten by mutants, bugs, and even other humans. Cannibalism wasn't very hard to imagine, especially with how little food was available in New York now.

He continued to move, imagining seeing the sunshine once again, to feel the warmth of summer instead of the burning ice of winter. Leonardo imagined Raphael and Donatello with him and all of them embracing. He imagined Splinter smiling as The World Depression came to an end and Fotiá became like Black Death and left the face of the destroyed planet they inhabited.

Suddenly, the ground beneath him shook and the buildings groaned, their weak structures giving out. Thinking it to be nothing more than another small earthquake, he continued to move at a normal speed. That was until the ground beneath him cracked and he realized where the crack would lead to if it opened.

"No, no no no no, not Michelangelo, not Master Splinter. Oh shell, please not them," he pleaded as he shoved the portions into his bag and ran faster than he had run since before the war. His lungs burned with the cold demons that stung and taunted him.

 _You'll never make it_

 _You'll be alone_

 _Donatello and Raphael are already dead_

 _It's just me and you_

 _Come to me Leonardo_

 _You're all..alone._

He screamed a great fury that reached up from his lungs past his lips. The thought of his baby brother leaving his life forever haunted him and he did not like it.

"It's my fault, I drove Raph and Donnie away, oh why is this happening. I want this to all end!"

His legs began to burn, each step was a furious step of vain. Each one was a landing on a nail, it tore at him and weakened him. Leonardo did not control his breaths, nor watch his steps, he must have kicked twenty corpses or so, the blood of the lost loves staining his bruised legs.

The buildings began to shake and his blue eyes widened in fear while his heart raced at a million kilometers an hour. This couldn't possibly be happening, the shocks shouldn't still be torturing them. Why was the world still this way? He wanted humanity back, he wanted to hear little kids and he wanted to be the hero that saved the people, he didn't want to hear the cracks of people's limbs as they were torn apart in a vicious vendetta held so long it was released in this purge of anarchy and savage manner.

The buildings gave their last groan before tipping over and falling. He did not think, for he had no time to think, he simply leaped, not caring that there was no way he was going to make it into the manhole in time or that even if he did, rubble would go down with him. He fell for what seemed like hours, watching as the blood was sucked from him and cold took over only to be replaced by a strong slap to the face by the horrid rotting smell he received from the sewers.

 _CRACK_

He looked to the side, there was a burning that filled him entirely. He was engulfed in flames that burned every part of his body. He gasped, the sudden change sending him into agony. He let out a short scream that did not even reach the end of the sewers. His vision blurred the only thing he could feel was the warm scarlet river that trickled down and welcomed his body.

 _It's okay_

 _You're with me_

 _You're not alone_

 _You have me_

The river slipped like a serpent before dropping into the water and turning green. Leonardo saw black spots cloud his vision before he was embraced in a welcoming warmth before darkness took over entirely.

"Mikey…Splinter…"

When he awoke, there was a horrible smell that took over him, although it did nothing. He stood up, a brown substance smeared on his face. He wiped it off without a second thought. There was worse he had seen. Often, rotting corpses would flow into the lair, this was nothing.

His lair.

Leonardo quickly stood up and ran into the general direction of where his lair was. Falling to his knees, he discovered that the place he once called home was destroyed, large pieces of rubble filling it so that absolutely nothing would survive. His heart seemed to be strangled and he felt his stomach tighten. He would have thrown up if he had anything to throw up.

Tears pricked his ocean blue eyes and the blue clad turtle let out a miserable sob that turned into a cry of agony. He did not scream in pain because his arm was scraped horrible, nor was it because he had run on a broken leg, nor was it the large piece of glass jammed into his arm, he cried out in agony because he was faced with the harsh realization that he was finally all alone. His brothers were gone, his father was gone, April and Casey were most likely dead too, there was nobody to take care of, nobody to love - Leonardo Hamato was all alone.

oOo

"Thank you," he replied in the unknown language. He took the blankets from the woman he had given all of his bread to. She smiled warmly, not knowing that she was speaking to a large turtle. Raphael often came to her for that reason. She had caught Fotiá and was now blind, it made surviving a bit easier for Raphael.

He wasn't sure where he was, he wasn't even sure if he was still on the same continent. He simply snuck onto a ship and wished for the best. Now here he was, speaking a language he didn't even know what it was, and trading his food for some extra blankets. He wanted to go back to New York, but he didn't dare, he heard of the way the city was getting hit, and besides, what was there to go back to? Leonardo was probably dead, and if he died that meant that Michelangelo and their beloved sensei was gone as well. He regretted leaving often, he missed his family, though he would never admit it. He was prideful and nobody else understood the excruciating pain it left him to carry.

"Do you need any other food, Raphael?"

"No, please, it's okay, Clara," he gave a small smile although she'd never see it.

Clara did not seem to agree with Raphael's choice and she began to fill a small box with canned goods and bottles of water, "You need to eat, Raphael. You may think I do not notice, but you are thin."

Raphael sighed slightly, "And what of you? Will you remain with no food?"

Clara gave a weak smile, "I'm but an old woman. My husband and daughter died in the first shock. There's nothing left for me to honestly wait for, I am blind anyway. Fotiá will best me and I'll die."

"Please don't say those things, you will not die."

Clara laughed lightly, "Maybe not today, but soon. I know it, our world is broken and healing is going to take longer than the years I have left."

The red-clad turtle looked down sadly, "I'll take the food, only if you promise I help you out around here because when I return to my brothers, you will come with me. You're my family now and I can't leave you here."

The old woman smiled softly and put a hand to Raphael's face, "Thank you Raphael, I'd gladly go with you. You're a good boy, don't forget that."

He didn't feel good, he abandoned his family and now he wouldn't even go back. Yet, in his defense he had no way to. Nearly all ships were destroyed leaving nothing behind.

Clara gave the mutant the box of goods, "Here you are Raphael, you must be the strongest man in all of Brazil. And your Portuguese is getting much better, I remember before all you could say was yes and no," she teased him slightly.

Brazil, so that's where he was. It was really hard to tell where they were, especially considering the entire world was in an ice age now. Not that it really mattered anymore. Countries weren't countries anymore. Cuba sank into the ocean along with parts of Italy, Switzerland fell apart, Belarus, Lithuania, and Iceland following after.

Raphael took the food, wished Clara a good day, and began to walk to his own 'home' which in reality was simply an abandoned farm that was a few houses away from Clara's. He had met the old woman when he first wandered into the country. She helped by giving him supplies since she was left with more than she needed after the deaths of her loved ones.

The red clad turtle thought of Leonardo who was with the rest of the family in New York if they were alive. Walking into his home, he walked upstairs and turned on the small radio he had. Any news, any at all about The World Depression ending was good.

"There was a mutant spotted Omsk today and the Green Market in New York was caught-"

Raphael froze for a moment, Omsk, wasn't that in Russia? He felt a sinking feeling, what if it was one of his brothers? No, it couldn't be, none of the others would have left like he did. He lay down, opening a can of peaches for dinner, anxiety filling him as he began to wonder if his brothers were okay after all.

They had to be.

oOo

Donatello blinked his eyes, unsure of what he was doing anymore. He hadn't meant for any of it to go this far. He just wanted a break, it was too much. After he heard that Michelangelo might not make it, he needed away. So in vanity, he left his brothers behind only meaning to travel to Virginia maybe and walk back to New York from there. Yet, here he was now, in Russia freezing his shell off while the only thing he ever thought about was how his family was doing and if Raphael was back in New York.

When did it get this far? When did the entire world fall apart and when did humanity decide they had enough? He wasn't sure what had happened but he prayed every night before he closed his eyes that when he woke up it would all be a dream and Mikey would be causing trouble, pissing Raph off, and Leo would be with Splinter. He wanted life back.

Yet he knew well that it would not happen.

Humanity broke and there was no way of repairing it.

So Donatello closed his eyes as he looked up at the starry night sky, praying that he'd wake up and find that the insanity inside did not escape. He prayed that things would return to normal.

He prayed that he was not in Russia crying every night in fear of what happened to his family.

He imagined Leonardo holding his hand out to the turtle who lay in the powdery snow.

 _"Come on, Donnie, it's okay."_

That's what he would say. He'd embrace him and take him home.

 _"Come on Donnie, the world isn't over."_

He'd find his brothers and they'd go home to Splinter.

 _"Come on Donnie, let's go home….."_


	3. τρία

**_τρία_**

* * *

 _Family is what keeps man strong, because without the love of a family, we go insane_

 _-anonymous_

* * *

He didn't know where he was nor did he know what time it was. Everything seemed so dark. Terror began to fill him as he came to realization that he was possibly blind now. Panicking, he attempted to get his muscles to move. The blizzard inside of his mind was taking over him and he didn't know if he was able to fight back. Not one inch of his body moved and he began to fear the worst. Had he been left paralyzed with no hope of survival? Where was his father, where was Leo? Oh, he wished his brothers were still around and that The World Depression had never occurred.

He heard voices calling to him in a language unknown. What was happening, where was Leo? The voices persisted and only grew louder while his body grew weaker. A loud crack was heard before a blinding flash of light left him squinting at the blurry figures that were calling down at him. Michelangelo found himself smiling slightly as he looked up to find a pair of green eyes peering down at him and above the head of what seemed like curly black hair, he could have sworn he saw a halo.

When he awoke, he came to the discovery of two things. One, he was certainly not in New York, and his savior was a mutant. His entire body hurt, but his throat burned leaving him too weak and afraid to speak. Instead, he simply rolled his head over to look across the dark room to find a large cat staring back at him. He did not look very happy, nor did he look happy to see Mikey was awake. His only reaction was a slight arch of his eyebrows and a sort of 'humph' sound.

What he had thought was curly black hair was actually dark gray fur that was uneven and charred in some areas. The green eyes that had seemed helpful were venomous and full of what seemed like hatred. What caught Michelangelo's eyes out of everything was the small turtle necklace around his neck that seemed to be the only bright thing about him. The strange mutant began to speak in the odd language again and it left Michelangelo confused. Who was this person, where as he, and what was this odd language he didn't understand?

The mutant saw this and the hatred in his eyes softened as he pointed to himself, "Elijah."

Mikey nodded slightly and tried to ignore the stinging in his throat.

Elijah pointed to Mikey and then put a hand to his forehead. Taking that as a way of saying that he wasn't well, the teenager nodded again.

Sitting back down, Elijah sighed and did not look back at Mikey again.

"M-Michelangelo," he stuttered with a voice of pain. Tears were already threatening to pour down his face because of the burning that he felt. This certainly caught Elijah's attention and he looked extremely confused.

"Michelangelo?" he seemed somewhat skeptical about this turtle. Here he was, not understanding a word of Italian yet his name was one of the greatest artists from Italy. It did not make sense, but honestly, did anything make sense in the world anymore? He had saved this mutant from rubble he had fallen into.

He had found Michelangelo drifting and chased after him. He had been on wrecked boat that had somehow drifted all the way to Bordighera. From there, Elijah had dragged him to Seborga where it was safer. However, that had been weeks ago and there was no sign of any other mutants. Thus, he was left angry that he would be stuck with this sick mutant. He detected him being extremely ill from miles away and still questioned why he didn't simply leave. There was very little of a chance for the turtle's survival anyway. His eyes were already starting to glaze over.

Both mutants sat there in silence until Elijah began to sing. Tears poured down his face which was scrunched up in an ugly and twisted way. His nose beginning to run as his green eyes lost their life for a moment. He muttered words that although Mikey did not understand—he assumed them to be curse words. He did not think any less of Elijah—he wanted to curse as well. Things were so horrible and Elijah did not look any older than he was which meant there was a great chance that any family he had once had were killed in the hostile actions that took place outside or he lost them just as Michelangelo did. He turned away not wanting to look anymore and tried to think of happy moments when he was back with his brothers and he was not afraid. They did not help him much, in fact, they seemed to make things worse because he became homesick.

"Y-You from E-England?"

At first, it took him a moment to realize that this was Elijah speaking because he did sound the same as he had before when he spoke in his strange language. He sounded more childish and innocent than the way he naturally looked. Realizing the question, he shook his head and tried to ignore the grand stinging that would surely follow his actions, "N-No," pausing, he pointed to himself, "American."

Elijah seemed disgusted for a moment but sighed and nodded. He pointed outside to the horribly torn apart land, "Italy."

Michelangelo's eyes widened. Sure, he didn't know many things about the world, but he knew enough to know that Italy was not in America or the continent that America was on. How had even managed to get this far? He had been at home asleep and waiting for Leonardo to come back to feed him and Splinter—where was Splinter? He stood up in terror and tried to run only to be pulled back by Elijah who growled at him. He pointed outside and tried to think.

"My dad—my father—my master—ah—my – my – my papa!"

His throat was flaming like acid and fire battling to take over it. Tears fell down from both the physical and emotional pain that was inflicted upon him.

Elijah's face fell and he looked down shaking his head. His grip on Mikey was still strong, "No—no others. You come one."

His eyes filled with tears and he fell to the ground in misery. What if he was dead? What if Leo was dead? He had no idea what he would do if that were the case. His pale eyes were brimming with tears and he felt his heart squeeze and shatter as well. Air seemed to be sucked out of him which was bad considering he was already extremely ill and had little chance of survival; especially if he was away from his family and in another country that looked worse than his home. He turned his head to Elijah and thought for a moment on how to understand him as it was obvious neither was really doing well.

He thought for a bit more and cleared his throat, he had watched a couple of Italian shows, surely he could remember some common phrases. Letting the stuttered words roll off of his tongue in horrid pronunciation and grammar. Elijah looked confused but seemed to understand after a bit and tried to decipher what the turtle had said. He was asking where they were. He did his best to explain things slowly to the person he had rescued. Just the same, when Elijah responded in broken English, he did his best when responding. The two continued like this for a long time; going back an forth in each other's language as much as they were able to while the other corrected them when needed.

The two, so curious and ready to learn the other's language, pointed out things and named them in their native tongue. Elijah's hard eyes softened and he even smile a bit as he taught this mutant how to say certain things. Michelangelo's eyes sparkled when he explained words in English. It was almost a sort of comfort for them. Despite being separated from family, they still managed to stay in one piece. Even though Elijah was scared, he was making it through and though Michelangelo was extremely ill, he was doing well. The young turtle had even forgotten about the terrible pain that tormented him a while before.

The two seemed like little children mimicking the way that their mouths moved and the sounds that they made. It would have looked very funny to anybody who wasn't watching them. After all, here you had two teenage boys who barely understood a word the other said and they were trying to say the same things not really caring what they meant. It was a pretty good distraction from the destruction outside where everything was falling apart. The two were laughing and did not feel afraid. For a moment, the chaos outside did not matter.

At least, for the time being. Eventually, both teenagers had to come to the realization that things outside were bad and that they could not ignore them much longer. The sounds of the crashing buildings and the screams of people being butchered without so much as a second thought would plague them. Yet, both would rather focus on learning each other's language and trying to stay happy for as long as possibly.

"C-ciao, Elijah, come s-stai?"

"Bene, Michelangelo!"

The turtle beamed in pride of his accomplishment and looked over at his new friend waiting for him to speak. Elijah's eyes darted down and he cleared his throat, "Hello Michelangelo, how a-are y-you?"

"Good, Elijah!"

The two high-fived and laughed, amused at how such a small thing made them so pleased. Michelangelo held up his hand and started counting to ten. Elijah caught on and repeated in Italian. Both seemed to catch onto what the other meant pretty quickly which made things quite a bit easier than with most people. Elijah looked over at Michelangelo, nervous but finally gained the courage to find an answer. He pointed at Michelangelo's skin, "How?"

At first, he did not understand but then it hit him. Elijah wanted to know how he got mutated. That made no sense, he had been like this all of—and then he realized that perhaps Elijah had been mutated recently and thought it was the same case for him. He nodded and rocked his arms as if he were holding a child, "Quando—io uh—bambino," he laughed nervously not knowing how to explain it. Instead, he took a stick and drew an infinity symbol on the dirty ground. Although Elijah didn't catch on right away, he eventually did and nodded.

He hugged his knees again and sighed, "Change apocalypse," was all that he said. It was confusing but it wasn't impossible to understand. Both had struggles with each other's language and it made sense for struggles to be present and for mistakes to be made. After all, they were not fluent so it could not be expected of them to know how to make everything sound perfect.

They both sat there for a moment before Michelangelo yawned, exhausted already despite it being moderately early. Elijah saw this and walked over to help him up so that they could move, it was nor safe to stay in the same place for more than one night. No matter how good of a shelter they had, the Italian Mafia controlled all of Italy now and they would take from anybody that they wanted. They owned it all and chances are that they saw the two teenagers and they needed to get on the move before it got too late to move. Elijah practically carried the tired mutant. At first, it angered him that he had to carry this cripple, but then he realized that chances were that if it were the other way around, Michelangelo would be dragging his feet across oceans before leaving him behind to die. No longer complaining or thinking about how unfair things were, he carried Mikey and allowed the sick one to move as much as he was able to.

His arms ached from the burns he had gotten and his feet were numb from the frigid cold weather that nearly killed them. Mikey tried to move but it seemed that with every movement that he made, his body shut down more and more.

 _'It's only a matter of time before he leaves just like Raph,'_ he thought as black specks covered his eyes and he closed his eyes not fearing any longer if it was the last time he'd ever fall asleep.

Elijah looked back at him and his breath seemed to hitch for a moment in fear that he had died but when he saw the steady breathing, he calmed down and continued to move. His paws crunched into the snow and he bottom of his feet seemed to be frozen completely. His fur kept him warm enough but he knew that it was not the same for his new friend and that if he failed to find them a new shelter, it would mean death for sure.

Trying to not focus on that, Elijah sang to himself a tune to keep himself moving. Words of motivation that seemed to aid him quite a bit, "O partigiano, porta mi vida—"

More steps that crunched into the hard, glass snow, and more words while tears stung against his face and the cold wind howled violently and unforgivingly. To think that he rescued this person, but now his focus was on getting the both of them back to their homes. Especially Michelangelo who was hitting the peak of his sickness ever slowly.

Michelangelo continued to breathe gently and evenly which was enough to keep Elijah moving forward without tension or fear.

* * *

Morning hit and the turtle was greeted by the warmth of a fire. He lifted his head up and found that he had a large cloth wrapped around his mouth. Thinking he had been kidnapped by the Mafia, he freaked out and started to try and struggle before realizing that he was in fact, not tied up nor kidnapped. Elijah had simply wrapped a cloth around him to avoid making his disease any worse. The next thing that caught Michelangelo's attention was the aroma of something bubbling. He turned his head to find Elijah who was also covering his mouth, stirring what seemed to be a pot of soup. Looking over he found that it was in fact soup. There were a couple of small birds, some herbs that he must have had and other things that could have been found in the ruins of Italy.

He looked over at him and smiled faintly through the cloth, "H-Hello, Mikey."

"Buong-giornio, Elijah, " he stuttered back, proud that he still remembered how to say it. Elijah took a couple of cans that sat next to him and filled them up to the top with this soup. He held one out to Michelangelo who though hesitant, took it and let the soup fill his mouth. Of all of the things that he had expected when it touched his tongue, the feeling of the heavenly gates opening while angel choirs sang 'Hallelujah," was not one of those things. The soup was amazing and the taste of these small birds only made him feel a lot better. He would have asked what kind of birds were in the soup but he as much too afraid to actually find out so he remained oblivious and ignorant to whatever may have been in his meal. He was glad to be eating and still alive with the new friend he had made. He would need somebody to stand with him especially now that he was on a different continent and that he might possibly never see his brothers of his beloved Sensei ever again.

The two ate, occasionally making silly faces at each other or making a weird noise that made the other snort or make an even weirder noise. That was until a sort of crackling noise was heard and both stood up terrified that it was the Mafia coming near or somebody-anybody ready to kill them. However, when Elijah turned, his eyes widened and he ran picking something rectangular off of the ground and holding it out towards Michelangelo who knew exactly what it was and his entire body shook with both terror and excitement.

He took the radio into his own hands and fearfully turned it on to the one station that seemed to be working. However, he frowned upon the realization that it was in Italian and that he would only understand maybe five words if he happened to be lucky enough. Elijah frowned as well but listened and his eyes widened in horror at the things were said. His tail went between his legs and he trembled as he listened to each and every word spoke.

He pushed the radio away and covered his ears rocking back and forth almost like he did not want to hear what was said. Michelangelo did not do anything else. He simply sat there for hours watching as his friend lost his mind. His head constantly shaking while tears rained down his face. He was afraid to ask knowing that perhaps Elijah might explode like Raphael or Donatello. There was nothing else that he could do other than to watch and pray that things turned out better and that Elijah stopped panicking so that they could continue their movement and get to where they needed to get. Yet, Michelangelo had a feeling that whatever was said on that radio was something that had to do with Elijah's home. After all, being in this tormenting state so long, hearing normal things like the butchering of people, cannibalism, the rapes that sky-rocketed—it would not have affected Elijah because they had been hearing about this since weeks before when The End Of Days had first begun.

Elijah remained like that for so long that Mikey eventually decided to leave the area for a bit to get some space and perhaps find supplies. He still needed to be careful, though. Ever since the end, mutants were caught, sold as slaves, and then worked to death or killed as some sort of sick game. To mutants, people never seemed to change from their old habits. They only acted like they changed to make themselves feel good.

Yet, the minute he walked outside, all he could see was the icy roads, large amounts of snow, and the fires that either meant that somebody was alive and cooking a small meal, or that somebody was sacrificed for The End Of Days. The most tragic part of all of this was that fires weren't often ever made to cook a simple meal.

He wondered how his brothers were and it left him extremely upset. How dare they leave he, Leo, and their sensei behind! Family should never be left behind. Still, Michelangelo found himself caught in the center of this battling for whether he wanted to see them ever again or watch them rot away.

Again, he could not ever hurt his brothers. He loved them with all of his heart and he always would. Getting back to them was his top priority. Leaning down, Michelangelo picked up little potatoes or whatever had fallen from the ground and placed them in his arms with pride. Perhaps they would make it through The End Of Days and soon they would see their family and friends again. He continued to pick up random things from the ground when something slipped from his belt. He looked at it and his heart paused realizing it was his T-Phone. He swallowed the bitter taste in his mouth and picked it up opening it to find it still somewhat working surprisingly after all of the torture that he had been through. He smiled weakly and wiped the tears that cascaded down his weak eyes.

"Michelangelo?"

Turning, he was greeted by Elijah who had a guilty look. He pointed inside gently and he knew that it was time to stop collecting and daydreaming. Much was to be done and just the fact that both of them were fighting for survival said enough about their situation. A piercing scream broke the air and despite the horrid biting and nagging feeling that told him to go check it out, Mikey did not. He had no strength and no power to fight with—there was no hope at all.

With eyes full of tears and an aching heart, Mikey walked with Elijah back to the area that they were spending the night in. Guilt buried deep inside him as he went against the rules that and values that he had held so high back at home. Then again, this wasn't home—and the world was falling apart.

 _'Raph, Donnie, Leo, wherever you guys are, I love you.'_

The sounds of gunshots were what they fell asleep to and gunshots remained as the music in their dreams.


End file.
